Tag: spook

A couple or days or so ago but definitely this week, a tall white guy was talking loudly again. He mentioned something about:

“Stay the course”

A phrase used in the context of a war or battle meaning to pursue a goal regardless of any obstacles or criticism. The modern usage of this term was popularized by United States presidents George H. W. Bush^[1] and Ronald Reagan.

I’m thinking to myself: Yup! TPTB know that I work for these people now. It’s like no matter where I go, I get to encounter the creeps: First, Hoan N. the old Vietnamese guy whom I’ve shut down last Friday for asking too many pesky and personal question about me and my whereabouts.

And second Rey V., the Mexicano IT support who teases. Yesterday, he walked up to my eating table and pulled out his wads of money to give to me so that I could go out and buy lunch like the rest of the people, who are nowhere in that lunchroom except me. But I told him that I don’t know if the people serving the food dropped the food or washed the food carefully.

He said he used to work in the restaurant and that patrons should NOT complain before the food is served. When the food is served, then the customers can complain. I said that the people might take it back, spit on it and serve it again.

Anyway, whatever I’m hearing near my workstation, I know that was intentionally meant for me to hear. I could sense the snickerings of these people as they walk to and from the SLAMMING, loud noise to MY back door! But I guess I just wanted to get out of that place as soon as my contract is finished. And that’s not until the end of this year. Thanks alot, Pete!

Well, I just told off the Hoan N. that my personal life is off-limits and that he should concentrate on work. I emphasized if he understood. He said, “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” and that he will only inquire about work. He then walked away and shook his head.

Earlier, he kept asking if ate, walked around or whatever. He saw that I was walking around and he told me that. It felt like he was stalking me or watching my every moves.

Just fair warning: These male V!ets have attitudes.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m trying to be professional and friendly. But the pusshead doesn’t get it. He’s just a lunch buddy. He keeps asking questions, which I told him yesterday about people who don’t mind their own business.

Yesterday, he asked if I liked fruits. I simply replied, “Yes.” Today, he asked when I left my last employer. I didn’t respond. He asked if one year ago? I said, “Long ago.” I shook my head.

To the temp agency who stuck this pusshead in my group: WTF?

He misunderstood me after we ate lunch downstairs where production usually eats. I waved twice, looking back to say goodbye. The pusshead followed me outdoors! He thought I invited him to walk for a few minutes!

To the rest of you fools: I do my own things! Get it? I’m quiet and reserved. I’m only here for six months and don’t care about your damn personal preferences or lives. Just talk about work and that’s it. Morons!

Hoan N@^y#n, the friggin’ temp won’t go away! I was walking away from the mini-breakroom. And I see out of the corner of my left eye, the little pusshead. I was trying to avoid him by walking fast ahead but he intercepted me in one of the intersection.

I got pissed as I walked away from his desk. His eyes were fearful as if something was wrong. He showed me a pop-up screen of the Microsoft Office Outlook, which prompted for his password. The nit-wit should have known that he has been using the login information for the `network` from one the business planners.

The little puss won’t go away! God, then I mumbled under my breath that he is weird. I hope Jen!k@ didn’t hear me, sort of.

This temp guy won’t friggin’ stay in his cubicle! He came over, inquired if I was browsing Google and started asking about how to do screen shots. I had to show him the friggin’ `Print Screen` button on the keyboard. I told him he could try the intranet and help desk features, which he should have found out on his own. Apparently we girls are smarter than that.

I gave him sort of a dirty look – like go away freak and browse the internet over there. Cooties!

Anyway, he is too nosy, too. Today we had lunch again for the second time. He inquired of the exact state back east where I came from, what language I spoke at home, just like the other smelly guy yesterday when a temp girl called in sick yesterday and other personal stuff like what university I graduated and such.

The temp girl is more professional. She doesn’t hang out with anyone but goes home to her mother’s for lunch. Next time I won’t join him for lunch. But if I do, I’ll let him talk. Next thing he’ll want to know is my bank account number, Social Security number, weight, height, age, race, culture, habits, whatever.

He seems to know more about two personnels here – one working for 26 years, the other for 16 years — and about how the production plant from here has been moved abroad. I went on to say it was okay for open borders so people could visit their hometown folks.

At around 6:00pm tonight, I arrived from work. The travel took around fifteen minutes through the back roads. Yesterday, two mini-vans crossed each other on Brokaw Road. That made the travel twenty minutes instead.

Anyway, when I got home tonight, I wanted to apply the registration decal for the year 2011. The last two digits are double sevens! I had trouble finding the correct measurement, a hex nut remover and wrench to be exact. That took another fifteen minutes.

Lo and behold, the divorced nutter proceeded to water her roses! To the SJPD and the DMV, why is this coo-coo head allowed to live next door to us? Why is she allowed to drive? Can someone suspend her driver’s license?

She’s driver her sister’s red mini-van, by the way; while her illegal ALIEN of a second husband drives HER car. Both are using each other. He married her to get a green car. She uses the guise of `depression` for leniency from the courts.

With a sharp knife I scraped off the old yellow-colored decal and replaced it with the red-colored one. Then it was a matter of screwing on the rusty hex nuts into place.

So the pusshead Roy A. is leaving the company. He just coughed near my cubicle. His last name is South Asian Indian. But he talks and walks like a white boy. He came on board this company for 16 years thanks to John.

This spook is tall and balding and his voice and mannerism all sound similar to Glen O., my former customer service manager in a BIGGER company. Both golf. And when I heard their conversation during the going away party yesterday about golfing and going to Hawaii, I flicked them off from where I was sitting by holding the glass of ice water with my right hand.

I hate this place, too! Get me out.

Well, the person who is supposed to sign off on our timesheet had PTO (paid-time off) on Friday, yesterday. So that meant someone else had to give me a tour of the place, meet the people of the department and get the friggin’ SLOW IT tech to give me access to the network, including the internet which I browsed that whole day.

Joshy M. had buck teeth too like Landy K. Joshy is a South Asian Indian. These two look similar to General Patraeus. Petra-eus looks like a `Peter` (like St. Peter holding the KEYS to the heavens) and a `Zeus` (like the Greek god of antiquity).

So there you go folks. More in my face reminders of my place and time.

There are three RED flags here:

1. First, I don’t remember the head hunter calling me up on Monday.
2. Yesterday, a second headhunter from the same office calls me up, saying she’d email me something about background check. Today, I’m still waiting for an email CONFIRMING temp job from the first one.
3. The first one ASKED when I could start to today. But called a second time to start tomorrow. The third call was to meet a different contact person.